...Er, um, Hello!

My name is Augustus. I have parents. Sometimes life can be difficult. I possess the great skill of being able to charm the socks off of anyone who chances to spot me, a rare occurrence indeed. [The spotting, that is; not the charming!]
However, for you, Dear Reader, I am prepared to divulge my deepest thoughts and perspective of the world, mostly because if I don't tell somebody what is going on around here, I am going to pop!
But be warned, proceed with caution: Living with Mummy and Dad can be rather harrowing at times...

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Sherman The Second

Readers of my infamous diary will recall the [now] remorseful, sword-wielding, many-legged rascal dubbed Sherman who pranced about the kitchen one fateful night many moons ago until he met Mummy and her anti-Sherman gun (cleverly disguised as an aerosol can called Raid)….
Well, I wrote about it.
Anyway, back to the res: Sherman’s apparent brother showed up this week in the very same kitchen, looking fit and, I must say, a much better dancer than his former sibling (may Sherman rest in peace). Only he had the audacity to do so in broad daylight (as opposed to Sherman’s midnight routine); further, and more to the point, he was on the kitchen counter!

Everyone knows the House Rules about being on the counter. That is to say, everyone except Sherman II, so named because, well, we couldn’t think of anything more clever.
So there it is.

Where was I?

Oh yes - Sherman II thought nothing of parading in and around the various black and silver gadgets (AKA Appliances) Mummy carefully polishes and stores there. I am confident that at one point the old Second stopped and positively admired his physique in the mirror-like surface of the Slow Cooker!

Still, he wasn’t so confident when Mummy arrived on the scene, freshly returned from her foray to the great hunting ground known as the Grocery Store – when she brought in her armload of crinkly bags and placed them on said counter, SII dashed behind the Coffee Pot and stayed there, apparently intending to camp out all summer if necessary to avoid this imposing Human. Only he didn’t take into account Young Mosby, The Inquirer (AKA The Snoot)…

If readers did indeed follow the earlier chronicle, they will recall that Young Mosby was rather, er, shall we say, unknowledgeable about the hidden dangers of the many-legged, sword-wielding cretins, er, creatures Mummy refers to as Scorpions so did not hesitate to poke his snoot where it shouldn’t be. He was young then, inexperienced in the evil workings of the world’s beasts, unlike Augustus The Wise, seasoned cat-of-the-world, who, in his infinite knowledge of such wild things, knew exactly what to do in that situation and did not fail to act – it was but the work of a moment for me, er, Augustus, to hide behind Mummy while she rid the world of Sherman The Terrible. And not much has changed.

You see, Mosby was also on the counter when Mummy entered the old domain, and naturally, being the Disciplinarian she can’t quite seem to get over, Mummy whisked the young squirt away, reminding him of The Rules in no uncertain terms. Then out she went for another boatload of tuna, and back up on the counter went Mosby [we kits know he was in search of Sherman II but Mummy, oddly assuming Mosby was being belligerent (imagine), deftly removed him once again and scolded him rather sharply for his willful misconduct].

Did that deter the young bean from his mission?

Mosby was determined to rout out SII and reveal his evil presence to the Mumster. He began yowling and scrabbling, bobbing his head this way and that, then looking back at Mummy to let her know he was genuinely onto something this time. A faint glimmer of thought crossed her brow as Mummy strove to understand the obvious. Here was Mosby shouting at the top of his lungs that we had a loose cannon in the kitchen, and all Mummy could think of was Mosby’s [potentially] dirty toes and how they aren’t conducive to proper sanitation. After hurling futile commands to force the young fuzzball off the counter, it occurred to her that he could be seeing something indeed, albeit imaginary, so she markedly moved the slow cooker and coffee pot in a knowing manner, confidently remarking how there was nothing there, when out dashed Sherman II with an apparent desire to die immediately. He raced straight toward Mummy’s arm and attempted a swift jab with his sword before retreating to the presumed safety of the Electric Can Opener.

Unfortunately, Sherman’s brother failed to account for Mummy’s speed and accuracy with (or her ready access beneath the sink to) the old Gun-As-Aerosol-Can-Called-Raid….

It is hard not to feel sorry for a guy who fought a good fight even for so short a time (his stint with Mummy lasted about 2.2 seconds by my reckoning). If he thought a leering 15 pound cat was a bit frightening, he should have known the 105 pound mother of said whiskered bloke was absolutely menacing.

But scorpions will be scorpions. Hopefully he made a quick call on his cell in his final moments to notify his cousins to steer clear of this place or they are for it! Obviously Sherman The First failed to do so.

Still, there it is.

Now I am off to see what toys Mummy brought back from the Store….